


Sensory Overload

by Shatterpath



Series: Smut 69 Table & BlackSheildScienceThunder [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, F/M, Kink Negotiation, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all of Steve's senses that were enhanced by the serum. A passing encounter gives him an idea that turns into a 'team event' of a most unusual sort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scent

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that i couldn't shake and had the bulk of the first chapter done some time ago, but my smut muses were on vacation and have only recently returned. The brats. So, this tale is up and moving again! 
> 
> The original note to myself was: _This came from the random idea of Steve borrowing some of the other guy's gear to confuse Nat's sense of smell. Maybe he got the idea from randomly picking up one of Bruce's shirts after he Hulk-shredded it._

The idea came to him rather randomly.

The insect-like creatures that had invaded Denver of all places, had been more or less beaten to various stages of decomposition, Hulk and Tony rabidly hunting down and smashing the remaining few. So Steve hung back, twisting to relieve the faint cramping tiredness in his muscles, when he noticed Bruce's tattered shirt draped over a broken tree branch. Poor guy went through them like tissue paper when he let out The Other Guy. For some reason, Steve found himself reaching for the blue material even as the breeze fluttered it over his face. This must have been a favorite by the scents clinging to it, the chemical/herbal tang of deodorant and shaving cream, the musty, electric stink of the labs, the faint hint of sweat and adrenaline and something unique to the two sides of Bruce Banner. It made Steve smile, pulling down the tattered cotton shirt and tucking it into his belt.

Scent was a sense so often ignored by humans, yet it had a powerful effect on the deepest, most primitive parts of the brain. Steve was reminded of his past with the Howling Commandos, the group pong of them, as real as their voices and their features. Was Natasha's sense of smell sensitive too? Could he use that to tug at her mind? To open up a primitive part of her with something to make her feel safe?

Hmmm…

Steve filed the idea and a the blue shirt in a ziptop baggie away in with his art supplies, one of the few places that Natasha never had an interest in and probably safe from her constant need to poke her nose into everything.

Then he managed to filch a pair of Clint's ubiquitous fancy sunglasses, still streaked with sweat after a workout and some time with the bow. Casually snatching up the small towel Clint had been using to mop off with, Steve used it to clean up the dark glasses and hand them back. The archer missed or ignored when Steve tucked the towel away with seeming absentmindedness.

A second baggie joined the first and the game became more interesting.

Natasha immediately knew he was up to something, as he was lousy at hiding a damn thing from her, but he teased her incessantly, plied her attention away with kisses and caresses and tossed her onto his bed to be screwed silly. It amused Steve endlessly that the game had him all fired up with the illicit fun of the scavenger hunt. 

Part of him wanted to just go and ask Tony for an item, knowing the eclectic billionaire would appreciate the game, but that could also end it too soon. Though, he was going to have to get something of the man's, so he might as well go sniffing around. Not unusually, Tony was in a lab, tinkering around with bits and pieces of technology that Steve was quite sure would never make sense to him. They bantered back and forth for a bit before Steve started asking casually after what Tony kept between his skin and the suit. Yanking a bin out from under a table revealed old pieces of a strange fabric that wasn't unlike the same armored material Steve wore into battle, only thinner. Best of all, there were the distinct shapes of gloves in the mess, heat and wear leaving the contours of Tony's agile hands in the fabric. It was as small matter to slip one of the battered into a baggie and into his pocket to be smuggled back to his stash.

Thor was the odd man out, for he owned little and was careful of his few things of Earth. He was so much an unknown, a walking mystery that the humans just didn't have the means to understand. Yet, many of them trusted him, despite that constant unknown. And really, there was only one way for a guy to get his questions answered.


	2. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve begins to wonder if this was such a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The silliest of the dialog here is pretty much word for word from an IM conversation with a friend. It was too funny to not work into this tale!

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Steve knocked quietly at Thor's door. He knew the guy was in and that Jane remained in the labs in the higher levels of the Avengers Tower, because Jarvis was handy that way. When Thor answered Steve's nervous knock at his door, he couldn't have looked more 'everyman' in thick sweats, a flannel shirt and sporting bare feet.

"Greetings, Steven. Please come inside, my home is as your home."

"Yeah, thanks Thor. I'd like to run an idea past you."

"Certainly."

With basic pleasantries exchanged and a bottle of pop in his hands, Steve knew he had to find the words he needed, despite his ingrained embarrassment. "So, I dunno if you've noticed, if anyone's notice, but me and Natasha, we're a… thing now, have been for awhile now. And she's a hell of a gal, but you guys all know that, just not the way I know that, though I wonder about Clint sometimes, but that's no big, because, well, the past is the past, y'know? And I don't want her to get bored and I cooked up this crazy idea, but I need your help, because really, I barely know you and…"

"Steven. Breathe, my friend."

Setting the bottle down, Steve rubbed his hands over his face and did as ordered, catching his breath.

"Yeah, right, sorry about that." By not looking at the larger man, Steve somehow stumbled through the sordid-sounding progression of events that led him here, finally ending on a huff of self-deprecating humor and once more scrubbing at his face. "So, yeah, that's the long and short of it. I'm really sorry if I sound like some drunk idiot."

Sprawled back lazily in what was clearly a favored chair, the big alien looked completely at ease, his face almost impassive. "If I am to understand correctly, you wish an item that carries my… scent. The stronger the scent the better suited to your needs?"

"Well, yeah, basically. Something strong but not unpleasant."

"Steven, I am not handing you my underclothes."

Shocked and cripplingly embarrassed, Steve fumbled for words, any words, that would get him out of this horrible situation he found himself in.

"No! No, no, no, I'm after more sensory, even sensual, rather than outright sexual."

"Yes, and? Among Asgardians there is no scent more sensual than one's manly musk."

Groaning with embarrassment, Steve hid his face in his hands, wanting to curl up in a childish little ball. "Thor, don't take this wrong way, but your people are just a little weir…"


	3. Cunning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a miserable time figuring out what Thor would donate to Steve's strange project, until I noticed the fabric under the bracers and had a eureka moment.

Then it clicked. That innocently curious expression, the hint of a smile around the bearded mouth.

"Thor, has Natasha been feeding you lines?"

Instantly, his expression crinkled up and Thor dissolved into gales of laughter. It was infectious and Steve couldn't help but join in. When they wound down, the two men were at ease again, Thor speaking first.

"It is good that you have someone to court in Natasha, though this endeavor could be seen as underhanded trickery, something perhaps better suited to Tony." His smile gentled his censure and they chuckled again at the favorite pastime of teasing the resident mouthy genius. "The sexual nature of the request is of no concern to me, Steven. And while Asgard does have its share of taboos, they are more limited than what I have observed here on Midgard. I will, of course, aid you. Come."

Leaping up, Thor led the way to the private areas of the quarters he shared with Jane, to a room cluttered with bit and pieces of machinery, papers, books and a smattering of objects distinctly of Asgard. The most obvious of which was the armor Steve remembered well, hung carefully on sturdy wooden hangers and an elaborate peg rack. On a narrow cabinet rested the hammer like a beautiful sculpture, belying its true nature. From one of the drawers beneath it, Thor drew out a tube of heavy crimson fabric, wrinkled and discolored. Steve spotted more red and the familiar pair of metal bracers before the drawer slid shut.

"I wear these beneath my bracers to separate my skin from the metal. It is made from the same material as my cape."

The fabric was surprisingly soft and had a weight and density to it unfamiliar to Steve's fingertips. Ignoring his lingering embarrassment-- in for a penny and all that-- he raised it and took a long inhale through his nose. Thor watched curiously, head tilted.

"It's, uh, actually a bit like Tony," Steve commented, trying to translate what his serum-enhanced senses told him. "Must be all the tech and strange metals and electricity. But underneath that? Yeah, you've got a really distinct smell. Bruce's is more exotic and conflicted and Clint's very 'regular guy'. None of which surprises you I'll bet. This should be real interesting, I hope."

"So long as the lady has course to agree or disagree, I cannot imagine that your efforts will go unrewarded. Such a powerful woman as Natasha would not have taken you as lover did she not trust you."

"Thanks Thor. It feels good to tell someone about us."

The clap of big hands on Steve's shoulders actually rocked even him a bit and he returned the wide smile. "You are welcome, my friend. Please be invited to come to my home whenever you please."

A racket of feminine voices back the way they'd come, attracted the men's attention, Jane appearing with a grin, Darcy right behind her. The smaller woman only paused for a moment at seeing Steve before rushing over to accept the long, loving kiss Thor ducked down to bestow on her.

"I'll be sure to call first," Steve chuckled and slid past them to greet and eye-rolling Darcy. "Evenin'."

"Hey there, Cap, good to see ya. One good thing about living here with Muscles, is that she leaves the lab on a regular basis. You want to stay for dinner?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I have plans. I hope."

The blue eyes were curious at the flash of red clenched in one hand, but Steve ducked away from the imminent questions. 

And plans that couldn't wait.


	4. Squeeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From prompt 69 (oh the irony) Writer's Choice. So I came up with 'squeeze' because it never gets old, what Natasha can do with those legs! Yowza!

He'd been teasing her for weeks, some plan behind that rakish smile that had her intrigued to just the razor edge of paranoia. 

The text message that had set her phone buzzing over an hour ago hadn't helped.

'Stop by my place. I have something for you.'

When Steve's apartment door swung open beneath her touch, Natasha grinned and took a deep breath of warm, savory smells inside. Always nice to know that her teaching Steve to enjoy modern eating habits were soaking in. He would fall back to eating like a poor boy in the Great Depression or a soldier used to deprivations of all kinds if left to his own devices for too long.

With senses attuned to a near supernatural degree, Natasha took stock of the space, quickly deciding it contained only her lover, before she wandered in to pause and watch him swaying in the kitchen to some music only he could hear. When he half turned and spotted her, he flinched in surprise before echoing her grin. Yanking out the earbuds, he fiddled with the little iPod even as he came over to nuzzle at her face. He'd worked out today, sweats still clinging loosely, hair mussed, but t-shirt clean.

"Hi sexy," Steve murmured, ducking down to kiss sweetly and then deeply, big hands spreading over her back to press their bodies close.

Murmuring appreciatively, Natasha was quite content to leave pleasantries for the moment. This was a far finer conversation to her way of thinking. By the time they came up for air, she'd climbed him, legs around his narrow waist, his hands low on her ass to keep them as close as clothing would let them.

"Hi sexy," she echoed back, grinning into his face and mussing up his hair. "You look smug."

"I'm hoping to be. Dinner first though."

Super soldier or no, Steve groaned in pleasure/pain when her deadly powerful legs clenched around him in unspoken warning.

"No more teasing. But if I do my job right, you'll need your strength."

Eyeing him fiercely for a moment, Natasha decided that she'd made her point and settled to her feet to sashay over to the prepared table. Feeling as though he'd just been warned with a light tap from a full-sized troop transport, Steve watched the slinky display before scrambling to get dinner plated up and served. They talked a bit over the meal, traded a few kisses and caresses and just enjoyed the easy quiet between them.


	5. Foreplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Permission established.

"So, I'd like to play with your senses."

It was an odd statement and Natasha raised a curious eyebrow in question. Steve was clearly excited and nervous as hell, eager to get to whatever it was he was getting to.

"I have enhanced senses and it got me curious if I could manipulate yours."

Lounging back in her chair, Natasha seemed as relaxed as a cat in front of a hot fire, but Steve knew better than to assume anything about his lover. She was the best at what she did for good reasons, not the least of which that could be one hell of an actor.

"Manipulate?"

"More like… tease."

Some infinitesimal shift in her body language reassured Steve that he'd calmed a potential negative reaction. 

"Besides wining and dining me?" The tease was affectionate and Natasha drained her wine glass before slinking over to drape herself into Steve's lap. "So I can understand the value of toying with one's senses to get a visceral reaction. What do you have in mind?"

"I got my hands on a very soft sleep mask to act as a blindfold and I've collected a few things with distinctive scents that I hope will get a strong, safe, visceral reaction out of you. No pressure."

The word safe stood out to Natasha. 

"Okay. I trust you."

As conflicted as always about feeling vulnerable, Natasha abandoned her seat to curl up in Steve's lap, soaking up the heat of him, the strong arms and tender hands. Before getting completely lost in her, Steve stood, Natasha's compact frame cuddled to his chest, and headed into the bedroom. With permission established, he was in no hurry and laid them both out for slow, hot kisses and caresses.


	6. Lick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess to having a lot of fun with the bantering in this chapter.

Tugging the zipper of the jumpsuit slowly, Steve kissed his way down Natasha's neck and across her collarbones. "Think I should get myself one of these? I do like peeling you out of them."

"I'm not use they'd fit, big boy."

Huffing with amusement with a gust of hot air to pool in her cleavage, Steve nipped at a collarbone playfully. "Maybe I'll ask Maria."

"Ugh, please don't mention my boss right now."

Laughing for real, Steve pulled away only to strip her to the waist, stroking away the pressure lines on her skin from wearing a bra all day. Natasha toyed with his hair and ears as he worshipped her curves, nibbling and sucking at both nipples until she squirmed and he moved further south. A bossy tug at the crumpled jumpsuit had Natasha arching up so a big hand to continue to strip her bare.

"Mmm," she hummed with pleasure even as Steve left off his oral worshipping for the moment. "Always good to get out of uniform."

"I've got no complaints. Though I still don't know how you function so well in these crazy heels."

"A useful job skill."

"Is that all it is?"

"You tell me."

"Hey now, you know that I think you look amazing in anything."

"Flatterer."

The rest of the sober ensemble was gone in short order and Steve rubbed her feet for a long moment, enjoying the faint smile playing around that rich mouth. Besides, this was as good a place to continue with the games as any. By the time he'd kissed and caressed his way up the plains of her powerful legs, alternating back and forth. Slickly outlining the fine muscles beneath her smooth belly with his tongue, Steve earned a throaty chuckle every bit as sexy as the body beneath him. 

"You're in a worshipping mood. I certainly have no complaints."

"I didn't imagine you would."

There was no resistance to Steve insinuating his bulk between her legs, easing a thumb at the heated wet to encourage Natasha towards further abandon. Kissing and licking at that tender crease of thigh and pelvis, Steve spoke again, voice dry.

"You don't mind terribly if I stop talking for a bit, do you?"

"Smartass."

She made it sound like a compliment and he chuckled warmly. Musky and savory, she was a feast for his senses, hips rolling with the continued tease of his mouth, voice low and feral. 

Moaning wantonly, a soft, low sound, Natasha gripped onto Steve's hair, pulling far harder than an unaugmented lover could handle. She loved that she could be rough with him, a rare freedom for her dangerous side. He hummed in pleasure and gave her aching clit a lick and a nip and the rush of orgasm rushed over her nerves, leaving her gasping and limp.


	7. Blindfold

Rubbing his large, muscular frame against her over-sensitized skin, Steve crawled up to lay half over her, nuzzling the damp red strands of hair.

"So, you ready for dessert?" he said wryly and Natasha burst out laughing. For some time the lovers kissed and cuddled, a pleasure Natasha had learned to enjoy and one Steve always relished. The bonding always gave the lovers a chance to wind down or continue with lovemaking, a safe mental and emotional haven. This night, Natasha had no desire to rest and willingly embraced the sexual heat building in her once more.

"So, come on, sneaky man, you've got me all warmed up and curious."

Smiling warmly, Steve leaned away and she noticed that his art kit was beside the bed.

"Good hiding spot."

From it, he drew the aforementioned sleeping mask and, incongruously, a handful of ziptop bags with flattened bundles of neutral-colored cloth within. They were cloth bags, Natasha realized, kept isolated within the thin plastic and each marked with at drawstring in a different color of the rainbow. Expression still warm and sweet, Steve held out the blindfold and Natasha appreciated the gesture. Slipping its loose embrace over her eyes, she relaxed into the embrace of the bed and let her other senses strengthen to compensate for her darkened eyesight. 

"Hopefully these haven't gotten to stinking while I've been collecting."

"Oh that's encouraging."

Steve's chuckle was low, threaded with a touch of nervousness and the heat of sexual want she knew well. Plastic and cloth rustled and his body moved subtly against her.

"I love that I can be your lover," he murmured softly. "That I've been gifted with your trust. Though I'm certainly not the only one in that last category. And certainly not the first."

There was no censure in his tone, no hint of jealousy or control. There never had been and it was one of the main reasons that Natasha stayed with him. But that reminiscing was interrupted by a wisp of scent that startled her into refocusing. Pungent but subtle, she knew it, but was drawing a blank. It tugged at the deepest parts of her brain, primitive, visceral places kept from the earliest days of evolution. Sweat and faint musk mixed into laundered cotton, the fabric soft as Steve slid it over her nose and mouth. Even as the cotton settled beside her head, Natasha was swept up into a deep, lingering kiss, the primitive lizard brain deep in her skull confused and titillated by the contrast in scents.


	8. Strained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game comes to a head.

"See, I'm the second smell," Steve purred against Natasha's lush mouth, stroking a caressing hand over her chin and cheek, wisps of Clint's smell still on his fingers. She was so curious, russet brows knitted faintly, a purse to her beautiful mouth even as she kissed him back. "We're going in rainbow order. They might not be completely accurate, but I did my best."

Another of the bags rustled and was drawn gently over her lower face and Natasha stiffened. A faint wisp of something exotic, from lands far away, sweet and pungent lay nearly hidden over the warm scent of man and the sharp reek of danger. It clicked then, the bone-deep familiarity of the first scent, of Steve in her nostrils and all over her tongue, the smell of sweet tea and irradiated danger slipping away to settle next to her ear.

"Steve," she whispered, only a hint of tremulous reaction to the strange game and his weight was instantly comforting.

"We stop as soon as you want, Nat, but we're missing a couple of friends, hmm?"

There was a dark promise in his voice, in the caressing hand down her body as he brought up the next bag. Confused and inexplicably turned on by the invisible presences she knew so well, Natasha couldn't resist inhaling deeply, baffled as to the strange smell for a long moment. Musky, yes, but sharp with something foreign, otherworldly, the hint of ozone dangerously too close. In her logical brain, Natasha catalogued the smells as she identified them, stored them away dispassionately in reinforcement to things she already knew. Deep in the primitive parts of her brain, she was completely caught up in the safety of the men she relied on all the time now.

"Last but not least," Steve growled, the touch of his hand and the press of his heavy body more urgent now as she squirmed with deliciously confused heat. Beneath the stink of machine oils and lingering plasma fire, she could make out the scents wicked away from trapped skin some time ago.

Cotton bags crumpled around her jaw and ears, Natasha blindly felt her lover's familiar shape, dug fingernails into his shoulder, his scalp, yanked him down into bruising kisses, bit at his demanding mouth. The myriad of familiar scents, normally so subtle, the visceral rush of something so primitive as pack, as family, of the sense of safety so rare to her.

Groaning with need, she yanked at Steve's bulk, echoed his needy growl, whimpered when the hard need of him slid home within her wet heat. Gentle, but roughly demanding, he rutted away in claim over her, offered her claim in return.

It wouldn't be until much later that Natasha would squirm in embarrassment at the high-pitched needy sounds she made that echoed in her ears.


	9. Slick

Any semblance of intelligence was wiped away for long moments, vision gone white in the darkness of the blindfold, body arched and deliciously tense in the throes of a devastating orgasm. Panting and winded, the lovers came back to themselves, bodies still tangled together, wet with sweat and more visceral things. With effort, Natasha pried her fingers from Steve's neck, noting his shudder, and flicked away the loose embrace of the sleep mask. The cloth bags lay crumpled around her head, light and squashy when she picked them up and just held them.

Safety was something she had never had much of, that subtle freedom impossibly rare. But this man, and the ones represented by the scraps of cloth in her hand, they offered her just that, a safety she had never known.

"Clever," she whispered, tightening up when he would have shifted away his welcome bulk, the softened thickness held within her. "Stay."

Crowded beneath Steve's body, Natasha pulled out the objects within each bag; a tattered blue shirt, a small towel, a crimson armband, a thin, oddly constructed glove. These were talismans of her teammates, her pack, her family. Grinning wickedly, Natasha rocked her hips against Steve, wallowing in his low, needy sound, the slack, hungry look on his face. With deliberate intent, she rubbed the bits of cloth over his face and neck and scalp, wicking his sweat into the fibers, mixing up all six of them. Lost in one another, surrounded by the scents of their teammates, the lovers came together again and were at last sated.


	10. Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fascinating exploration to write and I hope you enjoyed the reading.

Awakening slowly, Natasha took stock of the lassitude in every muscle, the lingering scents of the evening's entertainment and Steve's bulk draped half over her. When she opened her eyes, Steve's slitted blue gaze was already watching her quietly.

"That was quite a trip," she whispered with a small smile and reached up to brush back his wrecked hair. "Thank you."

There was relief in his smile, his soft kiss. "Glad it worked for you."

"It was naughty."

Steve aborted leaning in for a kiss, but instantly caught the mischievousness dancing in her expression. "Well, I have to keep my girl happy, don't I?"

He was smug now, tugging her to nestle closer to him.

"You do an excellent job of that, Steve. Thank you."

They kissed leisurely for long moments before Natasha suddenly giggled, breaking up the moment. Not offended, Steve regarded her curiously, stroking the russet curls.

"So, do you think we should tell them about this?"

Still surrounded by the scraps of cloth bearing the trace scents of their teammates, the lovers laughed together.


End file.
